Tomorrow Came too Late
by Dreamer1985
Summary: another challenge piece- read notes inside. Rating due to subject- not writing.


Bonanza Fan-Fiction

I do not own the copyrights to Bonanza

**A/N Dedicated to the many people who have, or still do, battle mental illness.**

**2nd A/N I admit I was not thinking of Adam when I wrote the piece Tomorrow for a challenge, but then realized with him just riding off and no one blinking an eye (so to speak), etc. I realized this challenge piece could be extended from the first. **

Rules

1) Expand on the first challenge, but pin-point the character

2) Still no less than 500 words, no more than 1,300

3) Extend the challenge to any Fan –fiction writer (if you do write one please let me know; I'd love to read it. Not sure if anyone did the first challenge because I never heard back).

4) The town mentioned in here, as far as I know, does not exist. If it does; I honestly don't know about it.

**Tomorrow Came Too Late**

The wind blew gently around those of us gathered at Adam's grave. No sound could be heard after the preacher left, except a few of his family members crying. It was only when everyone but Ben, I, and Robert -my cousin- were the only ones left standing at Adam's last resting place, did my relation speak up.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cartwright. I had no idea I looked so much like Adam when I was out to sea. The man calling me Adam smelled of alcohol pretty bad and I just figured he was drunk." My cousin shrugged his shoulders. "I played along not wishing to start any fight when we were so close to getting back to shore. There had been plenty of it during that particular trip and the captain was a bit more than touchy about the subject. I wish I'd known at that time the fellow hadn't been drinking a drop; just his sea legs were not being so steady." My cousin bit his lip braced himself for any blast Ben might send his way; none came.

"It's not your fault." Benjamin shook his head, let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He then extended his hand when my cousin said he had to go while venturing to stick out his own hand. It was only when Robert looked my way did I wave him off.

"I'll be just fine. Go get a bite to eat at the Cartwright home; Hop Sing is a great cook- so I've been told." I then tacked on. "Please, then leave using the route we agreed upon- that way no one in the town will think this grave is some sort of sick joke." He gave a nod to both of us and then left.

"Did Adam ever speak? I mean besides towards the end?" Ben looked at me with his hands clutching his hat, almost as if in desperation his son had managed to get even an ounce of normalcy back into to life before being brought home nigh unto death.

"Occasionally." I sighed, not wishing to wound the man in front of me any further than he was already hurting. "Thing is, Mr. Cartwright, even a strong man -or at least most men- do have a breaking point. From what little Adam spoke over the years, I got the strongest impression he'd seen, and experienced, more than most can imagine. The fact any kind of tomorrow came at all is a miracle; at least that is what he told me." I do not tell the man's father his exact words had been _My tomorrow coming is a miracle, but it came too late."_

I'd been taking care of Adam long enough to know he meant it had come to late for him to live with his family again. I'd done my best to assure him that his family would understand as Robert, and I, had gotten him into my wagon. I'd seen no need to pour salt into any wounded soul. Nor did I care to risk –unintentionally- pouring any sort of guilt trip onto Mr. Cartwright at the moment. However, I openly admitted I wished I'd left our little mountain home and gone into Martingale more often. Maybe, I'd have overheard people talking, and been able to pin-point who your son was long before Robert had shown up unexpectedly at my home. I shrugged my shoulders as I finished with, "I just never did like town much; too many people breathing down my neck."

"I've already asked a favor of your cousin; I was hoping I could I do the same of you." Ben took a deep breath and looked at me straight in the eye, "Will you keep quiet on my son's condition during the latter part of his life?" Ben asked, explaining he did not wish to have his son's name dragged through the mud.

"Of course. I understand all too well the stigma that seems to go along with mental illness. More than one of my family members have dealt with it; some still are- to one degree or another."

Ben then laid his hand on my shoulder and assured me he does not blame me anymore than he does my cousin. "You took care of my son better than any asylum could have, for that I thank you."

We said nothing more to each other, as we go joined the family for lunch. And throughout the years when anyone asked about Adam's life, his illness was never mentioned; only travels around the world and a time out at sea.


End file.
